Juvenile Behavior
by Kaciel
Summary: Wilson has figured out that House is the one behind all the minor annoyances testing his relationship with Sam, but House doesn't quit and Wilson can't figure out why. House has nothing to gain from it, right? Eventual Hilson.
1. Chapter 1

Wilson stood for a moment, just staring into the fridge, unable to believe what he was seeing. The milk was on the door. Annoyed, he picked up the carton and put it back in it's proper place before turning to the empty kitchen.

"House!" He called, using his 'you're in trouble' voice. Not hearing any indication that the Diagnostician was headed toward the kitchen, Wilson called again. It took two more tries before he finally heard uneven footsteps approaching.

"Where's your cane?" He asked when House limped his way into the kitchen.

"I'm giving it a day off." The older man replied, sitting heavily in a kitchen chair. "Now, what's so important that it couldn't wait a few…hours?" Wilson frowned before opening the fridge and pulling out the carton of milk. "What about it, besides the fact that it came out of a cow's tits?"

"I found it on the door of the fridge. I talked to you about this, House. The milk goes _inside_ the fridge, where it's colder and less likely to spoil." Rolling his eyes, House got up and started to leave the room, but that didn't deter Wilson. He continued talking and even began to follow House, still lecturing him. Finally, House stopped, halfway down the hallway. Turning around, he grabbed the carton and popped it open.

"Don't you dare." Wilson warned, eyeing House with a stern expression.

"Don't I dare what?" The older man asked innocently, then took a long drink directly from the carton.

What was he doing? House had to admit that he had no idea. He supposed it had started when Sam, Wilson's first ex, had come back. That was when the urge to play all the annoying little pranks on Wilson had him putting bowls in the dishwasher, the milk on the door. Juvenile mischief, really. It was when had finally found out that House was the one behind it all that the Diagnostician had come to terms with why he wanted Sam to leave. He had fallen for his best, and sometimes only, friend. It was simple, really, once he realized it. Wilson was like his other, better half. When House got drunk, Wilson was the one to drive him home. When he was lonely on Christmas, Wilson was the only one who'd notice, despite all attempts to hide it, and spend it with him. When there was a particularly difficult case that House just couldn't see the answer to, he would talk to Wilson and in one way or another, the other man would help him to see what had been there all along. He depended on Wilson. It was simple really, once you stepped back and looked at the situation. House was jealous of Sam's relationship with his best friend, and he had no idea what to do about it.

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**AN: Hey there everyone. This is my first time actually attempting to write a fanfic that is (mostly) serious and multi-chaptered, so if you notice anything that could be improved upon, or just have general hints or tips any and all reviews are appreciated. I'm looking to get better at this, so if you read something you don't like, don't stay silent! Speak up and tell me off for it!**


	2. Chapter 2

"House!" The Diagnostician blinked in surprise as the carton he was drinking from was suddenly, and rather harshly, pulled away from his mouth, spilling a great deal of its contents down his front. He stared in shock for a second, at Wilson, who was preoccupied with the 'dirtied' container of milk.

"I don't have cooties, you know." House snarked when he had recovered from the shock. He hadn't been expecting Wilson to suddenly grab the milk from his hands. He was more used to a long lecture before finally driving the other man to give up and walk away.

"Yes, but there are two other people who drink milk in this house, and they don't appreciate you putting your mouth all over the carton." It was only then that he noticed the dairy product dripping all over the floor. "House-" He began, only to be cut off when the older man pushed past him. Again, this didn't stop Wilson talking, he just began to follow House down the hallway. It was when House reached his bedroom and began to take his shirt off that his constant word vomit slowed and finally stopped, only to start up again as House looked for another shirt.

It took three seconds. One for House to want Wilson to shut the hell up, the second to realize that the room was suddenly quiet, and a third to become aware of the fact that it was his own lips pressed against Wilson's that was keeping the man silent. It was another 2 seconds before House pulled away and left the room without a word, locking himself in the bathroom.

"House?" There came a knock on the door. The older man sighed and leaned against the wall. It had taken even less time for Wilson to get up the nerve to confront him than he had thought, but the day was full of surprises, so why the hell not?

"What do you want Wilson? Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for that lunch date with Sam you were talking at me about yesterday?" He was offering Wilson a way out, an option number 2 where they didn't have to talk about it and they could just go on as if it hadn't happened. Half of House was silently hoping the other man wouldn't take it, and the other half was wishing he could sink into the floor and die. On the other side of the door, Wilson was staring in surprise at a spot just to the left of the doorframe. He was certain that House had been ignoring him as he explained his plans the day before, but apparently the man had been listening the whole time.

"Uh….yeah." He said softly, then turned away from the door. House ground his teeth, berating himself for what he had done. "We're going to talk about this when I get back though, right?" They both knew they wouldn't.

"Yeah. Have fun with Sam." House said with false cheer. Wilson frowned, but started down the hallway anyways, grabbing his keys and his jacket on the way out.

It wasn't until he heard the click of the front door locking that House unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway. He limped his way into the kitchen and sank into a chair. For 12 minutes he sat silently and then looked up and voiced the conclusion he had come to to the empty apartment around him.

"Well, I'm screwed." Looking down at his lap, he studied the t-shirt he still held tightly in both fists and then pulled it on.

* * *

**AN: This chapter actually came easier than I expected it to. Hopefully, as I gain more experience writing fanfic, I'll get better, but the only way I can learn is if my mistakes are pointed out. So don't stay silent, speak up if you notice a mistake and help me learn!**


	3. Chapter 3

Wilson returned to an empty apartment.

"House?" He called out, his nervousness apparent in the way his voice wavered. When he got no reply, he sighed. He had spent the entirety of his date distracted, wondering what the...he still wouldn't say the word kiss, even to him self, could have meant. Eventually he had come to the conclusion that it was just House being House, but he had still been expecting to come home to the older man watching monster trucks or porn on TV. His expression knitted in a frown, Wilson wondered where he could have gone, and if they were really ever going to talk about…it.

One week and a soul crushing case later, the issue had been nearly forgotten by both men. They had found it easier than they would have thought to slip back into the old routine of friendship and never speak of the incident again, but the older of the two couldn't let go that easily.

"House!" Wilson spat, entering the Diagnostician's office with one hand clenched tightly around a small object. House looked up from his game slowly, knowing exactly what Wilson was there for.

"Yes?" He asked innocently, pausing his game without looking at it and placing it aside.

"What the hell is this?" Wilson asked, thrusting his arm out and holding up the small object. House resisted the urge to laugh and continued to play dumb. It was the tube of hemorrhoid cream he had hidden earlier that day in Wilson's office.

"I didn't know you had hemorrhoids, Wilson." Taking a deep breath, Wilson began to speak in a carefully controlled tone.

"House, I was speaking to a man whose daughter I'm going to be treating. I was just about to break the news that his daughter has leukemia when he noticed this." He waved the tube. House carefully kept his face devoid of any emotion that would let Wilson in to the fact that he was beginning to think that the joke wasn't very funny anymore. "You need to stop it with the pranks. There's no point to them. I know Sam's not the one pulling all this crap, so why are you still doing it?" House stayed silent. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to say anything, Wilson huffed in frustration and turned to leave.

"Because I'm a selfish child and I don't like to share my things." Hand on the door, Wilson began to turn back to House, confused by the anger he had heard in his words, only to see the other door to the office swinging shut and House limping out into the hallway through the break room. It was only after his uneven steps carried him around a corner that Wilson noticed House's team sitting around the table staring at him. Glancing at the tube in his hand, Wilson quickly pitched it in House's wastebasket and left the office.

* * *

It was the closest thing to a confession he had ever said. Upon rounding the corner, out of Wilson's line of sight, House slowed his pace to a slower than normal walk. He hadn't waited for Wilson's response, just walked out of the office without looking back, so he had no idea if the other man had gotten his hint or not. Suddenly, he realized he had no destination in mind, and he was just wandering the floor aimlessly, which was likely to accidentally bring him face to face with Wilson once again. Not wanting this to happen, House changed his course and started for the elevators. He pushed the button, only to turn around and come face to face with the one person he didn't want to see any time in the near future.

"You're not still mad about the hemorrhoid thing, are you? Because I'm sure your ass is nice and hemorrhoid free." House did an internal double take. Had he just told Wilson that he had a nice ass in the squicky-est manner possible? Not that it wasn't nice, or anything. In fact it was very nice, the subject of several of House's fantasies. Willing himself not to let a blush rise on his face, House pushed all thoughts of Wilson's ass out of his mind and focused on reality. Wilson was looking around nervously for anyone who might have heard House's hemorrhoid comment and get the wrong idea. There was a ding, and House turned to see the elevator doors sliding open to reveal an empty cab.

"House, I think we need to talk." Wilson said, and House inched backwards, trying not to alert the other man that he was attempting to escape.

"What, are you here to tell me that you want to break up? Because nothing good has ever come of the line 'we need to talk'." House began to panic as he realized that he had insinuated that they were in a relationship. Thankfully, Wilson didn't seem to notice, and instead took a step forward. As the elevator doors were about to close, House suddenly took a large step back, bridging the gap and slipping into the elevator. Wilson blinked in surprise, and House thought he was home free, that is, until the other man threw out a hand and stopped the doors just as they were about to slide shut. Groaning, House stepped back and made room for the disgruntled Oncologist.

"I'm not letting you run away from this, House. We are going to sit down and have a conversation." Wilson reached around House and pressed a button. The elevator began to descend, headed for the floor containing the cafeteria. With a smug grin, House reached out and slid his cane down the wall, pressing every button in the panel. Wilson stared, appalled.

"House!"

"If I can't get out of this 'conversation', we're at least going to have it where I want to have it." House said firmly, making air quotes with his fingers at the word "conversation". Sighing, Wilson rolled his eyes and settled back on his heels.

"Where do you have in mind?"

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**AN: Wilson does have a nice ass, no? Little bit of swearing in this chapter. If it gets any worse, I'll up the rating. Finally managed to get a chapter longer than 500 words, which is nice. Hopefully, as I get more into this, the chapters will get longer. As always, if you have any tips about how I can improve, let me know.**


	4. Chapter 4

They ended up going to a small pizza joint 20 minutes from the hospital. Standing in front of the teeny building, Wilson raised an eyebrow and turned to House.

"Why do you want to eat here?"

"They make good calzones." Sighing, Wilson followed House through the door and was immediately hit by a scent that had his stomach grumbling loudly. All of a sudden, he didn't mind having to pay for both himself and House quite as much as he had moments ago.

Neither one of them spoke about anything of importance while waiting to be served. New cases, the weather, House's team and Cuddy's breasts were all discussed, but both men shied away from the issue they were there to discuss. It wasn't until a waitress had set their food in front of them that Wilson broached the subject.

"So, why'd you kiss me?" He asked, so casually that it had House choking on his drink.

"To shut you up." The older man finally spat out once he managed to stop coughing, and it was mostly -if not entirely- true. There was a small part of him, a part that still nagged him whenever he was around Wilson, to just grab the other man and kiss him senseless. Then again, there was also a small part that made him want to slap Cuddy's ass whenever she turned to walk away, and another even smaller part of him that sometimes made him want to light Chase on fire, but he had managed to ignore these parts just fine. Well, most of the time. Wilson thought for a moment, but seemed to accept it as something House would do, but he didn't seem to be done discussing it.

"There are a hundred different ways that you could have shut me up, but you chose to kiss me. Why is that?" It was true. Number one on the list would have been escaping to a different room or leaving the apartment all together and second was pelting Wilson with small objects until he chose to stop talking. House had a snarky comeback ready, and had just opened his mouth to deliver it, when his phone went off. With a sigh, he fished the offending device out of his pocket and flipped it open.

"What do you want?" He spat, knowing it was the ducklings on the other end. Foreman was the first to speak up.

"House?" The diagnostician grimaced.

"No, really? I thought I was Cuddy today." He rolled his eyes at the show of stupidity and waited for whatever was so important that it had to interrupt his lunch. He heard a muffled sigh, most likely Foreman. "Are you going to tell me whatever bit of gossip you picked up or not? But if it's about Cuddy's butt, I probably already know about it. Oh wait, but I'm Cuddy today," He paused and ate a bite of his calzone, "what are you doing talking about my butt?" Across the table, Wilson laughed and took a bite of his food. House put a hand over his phone's mouthpiece and whispered conspiratorially,

"What do you want to bet it's about Cuddy's butt?" Then pulled the phone back up to his ear, not waiting for a response, as Cameron's voice came over the line.

"We're having a bit of trouble with Brandy Dillenger."  
"Who?" House asked, not recognizing the name.

"Your newest case. 17 year old girl, internal bleeding and stomach pains that were completely unrelated to the bleeding?" House stared off into the distance, having lost interest in what Cameron was saying after 'Your newest case'.

"What's wrong with her, besides having a hooker's name?"

"Well, she's upsetting some of the other patients and won't listen to the nurses." Chase cut in at this point.

"Okay, but how?" House asked, annoyed that no one seemed to want to get to the point. Wilson watched him listen for a moment, then roll his eyes and snap the phone shut.

"Sorry, but my presence is absolutely necessary." He said, standing up and shoving the remaining bit of calzone in his mouth. Wilson frowned, concerned.

"What's wrong?" He asked as House limped to the door.

"Musical emergency." The older man called back cryptically over his shoulder. Musical emergency? Wilson frowned, confused, but didn't get a chance to clarify what House meant as he walked out the door at that moment. Taking another bite of his calzone, Wilson relaxed for a moment before leaping up in his seat, cursing, as he remembered that he had driven himself and House there in his car.

* * *

The door slid open and House walked into the room to be assaulted by the chorus of a song he identified as being sung by Guns N' Roses. On the only bed in the room was a young girl in her teens, writhing about atop the bedclothes to the music in the midst of an energetic air guitar solo. After a few seconds, House was able to pick her voice out from the rest of the music, singing along to the lyrics at the top of her lungs.

The sound of his footsteps obscured by the blaring music, House made his way, unnoticed, over to the bed stand where the speakers were, and switched them off. The room was suddenly silent, except for the girl's enthusiastic singing which quickly died as the music cut out. Having frozen when the music was turned off, she was still twisted so that her head was off the side of the bed, her body bent, making a C-shape with her legs stretched out to the foot of the bed. Her eyes, which had been shut, flew open and she stared up at him, upside down.

"I was listening to that." She said, making no move to right herself on the bed. Tilting her head a bit further back, so that she could see the floor, she looked House up and down and only then did she right herself, shifting so that she was sitting cross-legged facing him. She was clad in a black t-shirt and a pair of plaid flannel sleep pants, not a regulation hospital gown. Thick brown hair cropped to just below her ears partially obscured her dark green eyes until she pushed it back impatiently with one hand. It stuck up funny on one side where it had been crushed against the bed and resisted her attempts to smooth it back down.

"Who are you?" She asked bluntly, looking House over again.

"Dr. Wilson, why?" Now that he had dealt with the music problem, all House wanted to do was escape back to his office and hide from Wilson, who he had stranded at the pizza joint, but he knew that that was the first place he'd be looked for. His patient's room, however? He'd never be found.

"You don't look like a doctor."

"Yeah, well you don't look like a stripper, but your name sure sounds like one." A look of shock and hurt crossed Brandy's face as House threw himself into the chair beside her bed. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she glared at him as he grabbed the remote off the nightstand and switched on the TV that was situated on the far wall. He heard her mutter something that sounded like 'dick' and raised an eyebrow, glancing at her briefly. Her attention had been captured by the television and she seemed to be ignoring him.

"I see you were able to get her to turn off her music." A nurse said as she walked into the room with a tray of food. Her name tag read 'Jennifer'. She was one of the nurses who had been trying to get Brandy to turn her music off earlier in the day.

"Hi, my name's Nurse Jennifer." She said, holding out her hand. House just stared at it, not taking it and replied,

"Dr. House." Dropping her hand back down to her side, the nurse busied herself with neatening the room. Feeling eyes on the side of his head, House turned to find Brandy glaring at him.

"You said your name was Dr. Wilson."

"And?"

"You lied." House just shrugged and turned his attention back to the TV.

"Everyone lies." Brandy huffed in annoyance and Nurse Jennifer seemed to think this was a good time to cut in.

"Brandy? Do you think you could try eating something?" She asked, indicating the tray she had brought in with her. Brandy thought about it for a moment, lifting the lid on the tray to see what delicious treats it held. Underneath was soup, most likely vegetable and beef from the smell. Beside it was some crackers. She seemed torn, knowing she should eat the food, but not feeling the need to, despite the fact that she hadn't eaten more than a few bites over the past few days, most of which had been thrown up minutes after eating.

"I could try." She said, eyeing the soup. Nurse Jennifer smiled at this, and set her up on the bed with the tray of food, then left the room, entrusting her to House's care. _She must be new._ House thought, knowing that any nurse who had worked at the hospital for more than a few weeks would have heard the stories and know to never leave him alone with a patient for fear of a harassment suit against the hospital. Turning his attention back to the TV, he managed to forget where he was for almost 20 minutes, before the crash of a tray hitting the floor and frantic footsteps following seconds after pulled him back to reality. He looked away from the TV in time to see Brandy bolt into the bathroom and seconds later the sound of retching reached his ears. Mildly concerned, House was about to get up and make sure the girl wasn't dying when the door slid open and a mildly annoyed Wilson walked in.

"So this is where you've been hiding." He said, raising an eyebrow at the splattered remains of Brandy's lunch…or maybe it was dinner? House hadn't checked the time recently.

"I spend any time in my office and I'm accused of hiding. I go to see my newest case and I'm hiding again, just not in my usual place. Either I'm being unjustly accused or I'm going to be the best Hide and Seek player ever." Wilson crossed his arms over his chest.

"So you weren't hiding, then?"

"Who said I wasn't? Now either be quiet or go check to see if my newest case has died in the bathroom there." House said, nodding briefly in the direction Brandy had run. Wilson frowned before walking over to the bathroom door.

"Hi." House heard a hoarse voice from inside the small room. "You look like a real doctor. What's your name?" Wilson's eyebrows raised. Brandy was seated on the floor in front of the toilet, looking up over her shoulder at him.

"My name's Dr. Wilson. Nice to meet you?" He was surprised when she gave an annoyed huff.

"Okay, is this an inside joke or am I missing something? Is everyone Dr. Wilson today?"

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**A.N: I took way too long getting around to this chapter. Here I was, thinking I'd have more free time over the Christmas break. Well, at least this chapter's longer than the last 3. I'm going to try for more chapters around this length or longer from now on. I've also decided to up the rating on this fic, because from what I can tell, Brandy's going to have a bit of a foul mouth and there will eventually be adult themes, so it's better to do it now while I remember than to forget and have to deal with the consequences.**


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